Sins of the Father
by Jibril1
Summary: A particular student is the product of his mother's rape He starts seeing things, courtesy of Voldemort, who is slowly infiltrating the school. Where did Severus disapparate off to? Or has his double life take a turn for the worse?
1. Default Chapter

Title: Sins of the Father  
  
Author: Daeg  
  
Summary: I'm bad with summaries. But, here's my attempt: A young man goes to Hogwarts for two reasons: to try and make a living on his own, and to find the man who raped his mother. But when Caton starts seeing things, and with Voldemort slowly infiltrating the school, who can stop him? At the peak of the Dark Lord's sorcery, where has Severus dissapparated off to? Or has his double life taken a turn on him for the worse?  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters or logos or any of that. I would think that they belong first and foremost to J.K. Rowling, and Warner Bros. movies and Scholastic Publishing and a bunch of other affiliates. Please don't sue me. This author owns less than $20. No animals, house elves, or Potions Masters were harmed in the writing of this fic.  
  
~ Sins of the Father ~  
  
"That's enough of your funny business! Get out! Get out!!"  
  
"Yes, mum. Tell you what, you give me what's in that box in the closet- you know which one, and I'll leave," the boy said with a faint, patient smile. He waited near the doorway for her to rummage through the closet under the stairs for a moment. She came back with a small black case, the kind that jewelry sometimes comes in. "You can have it! Just like him... you look... just take it. Leave." The woman thrust a worn, aged box taped shut into her son's hands. He bowed and walked out the front door.   
  
It was a dark, velvety night, where the moon was new and few stars shone. The air was warm against his skin. Now that he was thrown out, where should he go? Without anyone to turn to, where was there to go? 'I'll find this father of mine... I'll do it, and when I do, I'll kill him,' Cat thought to himself. It was not such an unreasonable thought- after all, he had never met the man (if one could be called as such) and so much trouble his absence caused over the years of Cats' life. Was he to help it if he resembled the bastard? He snorted. "Hardly..." he said aloud, to no one in particular. Picking any direction, Cat walked down Wisteria Walk towards the main roads.  
  
He glanced up at the streetsign to determine which way to take next. Privet Drive or 25th Street. He chose 25th. It looked like the direction he needed to be in. It wasn't like he was taking a walk around the block; he needed to cover ground while he could stay awake. About halfway down the street, he turned around. Something was off. It wasn't darker, not really... and then he noticed that every light on Privet Drive was off. One eyebrow lifted. 'What the hell? ... logic. Right. Streetlamps are time-controlled. Theirs probably don't shut themselves off at the same time ours do.' Now if he could only get the uneasy feeling to go away. Suddenly, he was very glad to have brought his dagger along- even if he had to keep it hidden. 'At least I'll be able to keep myself in check... and keep other people away.'  
  
A very large man and his family sped past him in a car from Privet Drive. He looked either very angry, or very scared of something. It was hard to tell when someone so beefy was red like that. His wife was rather horselike. Who was the boy with them? He didn't look anything like the rest of them. Must have been his own age, although he didn't look it. And the other boy next to him could have passed for a large sow. 'Heh. Odd folks.'  
  
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~ Six Years Later ~  
  
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Tom the Innkeeper watched as a child not more than fifteen or sixteen walked into the Leaky Cauldron. He was not a very tall boy, but he walked with grace and confidence. As if he were as rich as the Malfoy family, which, he clearly was not, judging by the state of his muggle clothing. His hair, although brushed, looked as if it had not been washed in a while. His shoes looked well-worn, as though he might have had them forever. He took a seat up at the other end of the counter. Tom took a closer look as he moved to serve him. He noticed that a few strands of the boy's thick black hair were... grey? How old was he? Then he saw his eyes- the most piercing, striking blue he had ever seen. He was just odd in general, this one.  
  
"Hello, my good sir~ how are you today?"  
  
"Feeling better all the time, and yourself?"  
  
"Ah, very good. Business is moving today! What'll you have?"  
  
"Oh, now, I don't have any money on me... yet." The boy glanced over his shoulder; "Hold that thought."  
  
Tom watched as the young man struck up a conversation with a few of the Hogwarts schoolboys. They all went to a window and watched something... their faces fell as each one of them handed three silver sickles to the boy. He thanked them and assured them better luck the next time. He resumed his seat and set four of the coins on the countertop.  
  
"I'll have a cherry soda, if you don't mind, Tom."  
  
"Sure! Say, do you go to Hogwarts?"  
  
"Beg your pardon?"  
  
"You don't... Hogwarts, School for Witchcraft and Wizadry! It's the best wizarding school in all the world! I thought you might go there, seeing you talk to them as if you were friends..."  
  
"Sorry, no. I didn't know there was a school for such a thing. And I don't actually know them either- I just placed a bet, that's all."  
  
Tom put down the glass he was polishing. "I say. Well, that's certainly one way to do it! What's your name?"  
  
He smiled faintly, and said (in a velvety voice Tom was sure he'd heard someplace else before) "Well, I can't tell you that... I suppose you could call me Cat."  
  
Tom poured Cat the butterbeer. "Alright, Cat~" He passed him the mug. "You don't know of wizarding schools?"  
  
"Not at all. Enlighten me~"  
  
"Well... you are a wizard, aren't you? You can do things you can't explain. You came in here, and muggles don't know there's an inn in this building. To them it looks like part of another place."  
  
"In that case, I suppose I am a wizard. What is a muggle?"  
  
"... Now wait just one minute here, Cat. You mean to say you..." Tom trailed off there, utterly confused. He rubbed his chin when he didn't understand something. Cat sighed. "May I?"  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
"I see things, know things I cannot explain. I do things I cannot explain. I suppose that makes me a wizard... but I have never met any others," Cat paused and took a breath. "Now, might I ask who runs this school of wizardry, and how I can contact him or her?"  
  
Tom waited a moment to reply. "I... A man named Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of the century- perhaps longer, is headmaster of Hogwarts. I am not sure exactly where it is. But I assure you, if you owl him a letter, he will try to get back to you. You thinking of trying to get in?"  
  
"If I can't, then I'll try to get a job there. I've been meaning to do that anyways," Cat said and shrugged. He took a drink of the soda.  
  
Tom then went to wait on another customer. Caton stared down at the counter, contemplating exactly what he would do. Should he go visit this Dumbledore? Or just keep moving, to ensure that he would not be found by the authorities? The second option was tempting, but then again, maybe Dumbledore could help him find the owner of the ring his mum had given him. It was silver, two serpents wrapped around each other. The chain had long since broken, and was very tarnished, but the ring had never done so. He had the chain somewhere in his backpack... the ring he wore himself, and never took it off. Just a reminder of his cause. The cause was greater than the need to stay out of sight. 'This is my chance, dammit, the first I've had in years- I'm gonna take it!'  
  
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~ Later that Day ~  
  
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Finding the right trainstation wasn't so hard to do, as big as London was. He tried to follow people he saw at the Leaky Cauldron. The problem was getting on the train with hundreds of people and not getting seen. But... there was no Platform 9 3/4. 'How...? Must be another magic thing. Only wizards can see it. I can't see it. Damn. Maybe I won't get into this school after all. Well... maybe I could get a job anyways... not like I want to teach...' He carefully watched people moving about the station, waiting between Platforms 9 and 10. He wasn't sure what he was looking for.   
  
Then he spotted it. A group of redheads, probably all related, going through a wall one at a time. No one else noticed. They had so carefully timed the whole thing... That was probably the platform. He knew that the train there would take him to Hogwarts because he'd overheard one of the taller students there talking about it to his younger sister. They went one at a time, and stepped right through the wall! Cat cocked one eyebrow. That was it- the sign he had been watching for. He stood up and casually leaned against the wall himself until no one was looking at him, then stepped through the wall himself.  
  
There were so many people there. No one bothered to look at him though, which was good. There had to be a way to get on that train! 'What would Injaka do?' He imagined her talking to a train attendant; the attendant would tell Injaka, "Get on the train! Get on the-" and Injaka would get fiercely defensive and say, "Fuck you, I'm getting in the train. Let Evil Kinevil get on the train!!" He laughed at the whole idea. Wait a second... get on... the... train...   
  
He slipped between two cars of the locomotive when people weren't so much as glancing in his general direction. Next, he had to climb up on the train and stay there between the windows, and not get caught. Then when the train started moving and the people were gone, get on top of the train somehow. He'd never had to do anything like this before. He hoped Hogwarts wasn't far, but was grateful for the scarves Injaka had told him to take- he could tie himself down with them if he couldn't hold on. Which he probably wouldn't be able to. Cat was just about to back out. He looked down at his hands, folding them as he usually did when making a decision... and saw the ring. No way in hell was he walking away now.  
  
A whistle blew somewhere. One minute 'til departure. He peered around the corner of the car- not too many parents there anymore. He could get to work soon.  
  
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~ After the Long Trip to Hogwarts ~  
  
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He tried not to tremble while walking. The ride had taken quite a toll on his body- he was never so scared in his life, especially going over the bridge... Cat vowed never to ride a train again, whether he was in it or on it. That was certain.  
  
  
  
He got into the actual school quite easily, as he pretended to everyone that he was in someone else's booth on the train. They noticed he wasn't wearing robes, and he convinced them that he wasn't there for schooling. He was just coming for a visit, and asked if he could borrow one of the guy's robes. He was rather nice. One of the redheads he saw at the station- Ron Weasley. He was quite a character with his grin and playful personality. Cat thanked him, and promised to return it. "Ron, where is the Headmaster's office?"  
  
"Over on the third floor, behind a gargoyle statue. That where you're going?"  
  
"That is where I am supposed to meet him. Thank you."  
  
By the talking other people were doing, Dumbledore would be in the Great Hall for the next few hours for a welcoming feast. People were going to be sorted. He didn't want to be a part of it. He broke off of the crowd and hid in a classroom. After he was sure no one was around, he found his way upstairs.  
  
Now all he had to do was wait.  
  
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~ Dumbledore ~  
  
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An elderly man walked down the long corridor. Caton stood to greet him- this must be the headmaster. There was just a sense of wisdom about him, and it wasn't just his age or half-moon spectacles.   
  
"Good evening, child. Should not you be in your house?"  
  
"No sir. I would like permission to speak to the Headmaster here, if he is willing, and has the time to do so."  
  
"I have time now. Would you like to come in?"   
  
"Please, sir." Cat looked quickly around. "But there is no door here... is there?"  
  
"Lemon drop."  
  
A little confused, he said, "Beg your..." Cat stopped when the gargoyle moved and revealed a staircase. Dumbledore stood on the step in the center. Cat blinked and followed quietly. Inns that don't exist, walking through walls to platforms between 9 and 10, and now gargoyles that jump out of the way at a few words and strange staircases. Caton mentally shrugged- hey, with magic, anything must be possible, and anything goes.  
  
Stepping inside the large office was like stepping into an alternate reality. Blinking things, sparkling objects, random crystals and whatnot he couldn't identify were in every which way. Silver instruments and things littered shelves, tables, and were sometimes strewn across the floor in places, resting atop luxurious oriental carpets. The headmaster took a seat at the desk, and motioned for Caton to do the same. He nodded and obeyed. "I did not see you at the Sorting tonight, young man. What is your name?"  
  
"I did not go. I think you already know that I am not a student here. My name is Caton Crawford, or Cat for short."  
  
"Caton, why are you here?"  
  
"I wanted to ask you for a job. I can clean and cook... I'll do anything else you ask, no matter how hard or dangerous, short of assassination."  
  
"I see. You do not wish to learn here?"  
  
Cat looked down, a little embarrased. "Alas, sir, I have no resources. I'd be borrowing paper and pen everyday," he said and smiled. "But in the meantime..."  
  
Dumbledore nodded in understanding. "I see," he replied, adjusting his glasses and proceeding to sift through some papers. "Well... I am sure we can find something for you to do. How old are you?" Dumbledore noted the seemingly boy's haircolor. Jet black and silver. No one so young should have grey hair already. With self-writing quill and parchment out, he began taking records. Cat watched as the quill wrote out Dumbledore's question, fascinated. He shook his head, returning to his senses.  
  
"I am sixteen, sir."  
  
"Do you have any previous schooling in wizardry?"  
  
He shook his head. "No sir, but I learn most things quickly."  
  
"Do you have a wand?"  
  
"No sir. I can do manual labour."  
  
"I see. You come from a muggle family then."  
  
"Muggles are non-magic people, correct?" Dumbledore nodded.   
  
"Then I am."  
  
The headmaster looked slightly perplexed. "Did your parents send you? If so, how did you get here?" Cat's eyes dimmed. 'How to answer?' He bit his lip, and spoke slowly. "Ah... parent. Singular. No, my mother did not send me. I found you on my own, and caught the train."  
  
"Ah. That explains a good deal. How did you get by without a ticket?"  
  
Cat smiled. "I got on the train." Dumbledores self-writing quill nearly fell over when he realized exactly how Caton had worded the sentence. He had gotten on the train. Cat only nodded, wondering what was coming next.   
  
"Does she know where you are?" Albus asked, noting how calm Caton suddenly became. Not quite calm- smoother. He could pass off lies like that. Cat inhaled before starting. "No sir. She threw me out of the house when I was eleven. She does not think it right to be... un, what we are. It is against her religion, you see."  
  
The sparkle in Dumbledore's eyes went out for a moment, and his hands clasped slightly tighter. "I see... Have you been living on your own since?"  
  
"No sir. I am a loner, not alone. I found a friend or two on the way," Cat replied with a small smile, thinking of Injaka all the time...  
  
"Are they with you here?"  
  
"No. I have not seen her in a long time. Nearly half a year. We try to keep in touch."  
  
"Ah. I think we can do something for you. Would you like to work in the kitchens? I'm sure the house elves wouldn't mind."  
  
"If they will have me, sir. I have never met a house elf." Suddenly he was just the slightest bit anxious. 'Elves? Really? How... magical. heh. I have a lot to learn... how come I never saw them before?'  
  
"I think you will like them. Dobby might be a bit talkative though. You will know him when you see him," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling behind the spectacles. Cat looked up, an excited spark in his eyes. "Thank you sir! There are a few more things I would like to ask, however. What is the rate for a room here? Or any place, really."  
  
"There is none. We provide housing for all of our staff here. The castle is certainly big enough..."  
  
"I see." Caton bowed. "Thank you sir."  
  
"Is there anything else you would like to ask?"  
  
Cat thought a moment, and said, "Yes sir. When do I start, where are the kitchens, and might I have a map of the castle to see where I am going?"  
  
Dumbledore smiled. "You may start tomorrow morning, if you wish. I will show you to the kitchens, and," he pulled a small roll of parchment out of a drawer. "You may have a map. This red dot here will always show where you are."  
  
"Ah, yes, so it does. How does it know my name?"  
  
"Magic." Dumbledore smiled. Cat looked up from the parchment, grinning. He didn't notice when Dumledore's eyes fell on the ring he was wearing. Two serpents, coiled around each other. Silver, with bright emerald insets for eyes. It was like one Severus owned at one point, a family heirloom- one of the few he had kept. That was a long time ago, and had been lost on a Death Eater event. Dumbledore's smile faded slightly, noting how much Caton looked like the said professor.  
  
With that all out of the way, Dumbledore stood and led the young man out of the room and down to the kitchens. On their way, a middle-aged woman with square glasses approached them. "Good evening, ma'am," Caton greeted her. That was th ewoman he had seen earlier when he was getting off of the trains.  
  
"Good evening, Headmaster. Good evening, young man. What is your name? I did not see you at the Sorting."  
  
"No ma'am, I am employed here, as of tomorrow morning. My name is Caton. Might I ask who you are?"  
  
"Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher and Head of Gryffindor House. Pleased to meet you, Caton."   
  
"Minerva, I must be on my way- there's a lot to show Mr. Crawford here before tomorrow morning. Good night."  
  
"Yes Headmaster. Sorry to keep you. Goodnight, Caton, Albus."  
  
Caton gave a slight bow in response. Then they parted ways.  
  
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~ "Finally, a hot bath..." ~  
  
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Dumbledore had spent an hour showing him around the kitchen, introducing him to all availible house elves, and then showing him to his room. There was suprisingly a built-in bathroom, which was very enticing. According to a clock on the wall, it was a little past 9:30 p.m. Not too late, but it felt like it. Cat's arms were sore, as was his legs. He knelt over the bath and ran the very warm water until it was nearly a foot and a half deep. That wasn't very deep for this particular bath, but he didn't know if there was a bill or whatnot for the school. Three different knobs on the bath, one for hot, warm, and cold water... and a few others he didn't recognize. He didn't want to try them at the moment either.  
  
There was conveniently shampoo and conditioner at hand, along with various soaps. They smelled nice... it was good to sit back. How long had it been since a decent bath? Five years? Of course, he had washed since then. At least every other day. But it wasn't this good- didn't even compare. He never realized how tan he really was before. There was a noticeble tan line in places, where his skin went from an ivory, milky color to very tan. "Well, looks like someone is bound to wind up with skin cancer... heh."  
  
"Beg your pardon, dear?"  
  
Cat's head snapped up. "State your name, and show yourself." What the hell? How could he have let his guard down? He should have noticed that someone was with him!  
  
"I am right in front of you. My name is Gwyn."  
  
Cat was suddenly thankful for his darkened skin- he hoped he didn't turn too red when he blushed. "I cannot see you... I don't think..."  
  
"I am the mirror."  
  
"... Come again?"  
  
"I am a mirror, sir."  
  
"Ah. I see you then... sorry... I didn't know that mirrors could talk." He sank deeper into the water, wondering how much she had seen.   
  
"If it's any comfort, I close my eyes when someone is bathing."  
  
Cat made a small noise, followed by, "Thank you, dear."  
  
A long pause ensued, filled in by Cat looking at his nails. They were mostly clean, and filed, as were his toenails. It had been very important to him to keep washed when on the road. He had kept his nails short to help ease random activities, but really wanted them a little longer for a bit.  
  
"Pardon me. I had not introduced myself properly. I am Caton. If you like, you can call me Cat," he said, smiling.  
  
"That's an unusual name. Where is it from?"  
  
"Cat? Or Caton?"  
  
"Either and both, if you don't mind..." the mirror chuckled.  
  
"Cat, because it is shorter than Caton, and because of my teeth..." he smiled again, this time showing his teeth. The canine teeth were a little longer than most people's, and pointed. "Ah... Caton... I think it may be Latin or Italian. Not sure. If I ever find out, I'll tell you, okay?"  
  
The mirror chuckled again. "Alright, Cat~"  
  
Caton nodded, and quickly finished washing. He reached for the towel he had set on the footstool next to the tub. Standing and wrapping himself in it so as not to show anything, he stepped out of the water onto the stone floor. In the main room, he picked up the robe Ron had lent him and dressed in only that. His other clothes were very dirty. Then again, he hadn't let the water out of the tub yet... suppose he could use a little of the shampoo as detergent and wash them by hand. That would do for now, until he could get them properly cleaned. He wondered how the other wizards did it- if they lived here, then surely each one of them did not bring as many clothes as to be able to wear something new every day? There must be some kind of laundry service. Or perhaps they came already knowing spells to clean their clothes for them. Probably the latter.  
  
Cat picked up the shirt, which needed cold water and therefore couldn't be washed in the tub, and sat that aside. The pants, however, could. He let some of the water drain, and found a loofah to help the soap to lather on the clothes.   
  
"What are you doing, Cat?"  
  
"Washing my clothes. They need it..."  
  
"Why don't you take them to the house elves? They'll do it for you."  
  
"Not supposed to be out after nine, unfortunately."  
  
"You do not have a wand?"  
  
"No ma'am."  
  
"Are you a wizard?"  
  
"Yes. At least, I believe so. My work here does not require a wand. Can you do spells or whatnot without one?"  
  
"Yes, accidental magic. But that is... well, accidental. At least, that's what I think. You might ask the librarian, or a teacher here... Madam Pince should be able to help you."  
  
"That's a good idea. While I'm there, I'll get a book on cleaning spells." Caton laughed. He could just imagine himself waving around a twig, saying nonsensical words and making things go *poof!* in purple and orange smoke.  
  
The mirror looked on as he dipped the trousers into the warm water and washed them, working the soap in with his hands. Finally, he drained the tub completely, and rinsed them. After ringing them out, and flattening them on the bathroom counter with his hands, he soaked up the extra water in them with another towel pressed onto it. He pressed them out one more time. "They'll dry like that, see? Not hard." After that he washed his shirt in the same manner, pressing it all different ways to keep the creases where they should be. He got the feeling the mirror had never seen anything like it.  
  
"Is that how muggles clean their clothes?"  
  
"Not all of them. Most have big machines made of metal and plastics that do it for them. It takes a little longer, but you can wash much more at once. It also makes them cleaner than handwashing, usually. There are still muggle clothes that have to be hand washed, though."  
  
"Fascinating... what things they think of to aid them!"  
  
Cat only laughed. "Well... I think... to use magic for everything would make one lazy sometimes. It makes life less interesting sometimes, takes away the pride of being able to do for yourself no matter what. Then again, I've not done proper magic, so I could be wrong."  
  
The mirror made what sounded like a sigh. He didn't know whether she was upset or agreed or...  
  
"Beg your pardon, dear, have I offended you?"  
  
"Not at all, I just don't understand about people. That's all."  
  
Cat smiled. "It's okay, most people don't understand people either. I sure don't. Anyways... it's a little after 10:30 now. I'm going to bed... see you tomorrow."  
  
"Goodnight."  
  
Cat lay down on the incredibly comfortable four-poster bed. After a few minutes, he fell asleep. 


	2. Sins of the Father Chapter 2

Please note that I do not own any of JK Rowlings stuff. My own ideas are mine. Caton, Polaris, and Injaka are mine. Thank you.  
  
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~ The Next Morning ~  
  
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Cat woke from a dead sleep. It was nearly six in the morning. 'Perhaps I should go to the kitchens. They are probably already working... that's what I forgot to ask. When my hours are. Brilliant of me.' He got dressed quickly. His clothes had dried overnight, but they were a little rough-textured. He didn't care- he'd get used to in in a few minutes. Picking up the map, he left the room. It was a good ten minute walk to the elves' portrait- one of fruit. "You could get in if you tickle the pear..." he recalled Dumbledore saying. The portrait swung open, narrowly missing Cat's nose. He stepped in, and nearly collided with an elf wearing many hats.   
  
"Is you Cat, sir?" Cat looked to his left at an elf wearing at least three pairs of socks, and a lot of knitted hats. 'How odd... none of the other house-elves wear real clothes like that...'   
  
"Yes... I don't believe I met you last night. Your name?"  
  
"Dobby, sir! We have work for you!" he paused, looking Cat from head to toe. "You is not a house elf?" The human only chuckled. "Nope, not a house elf. But I am here to work. What do you have for me to do?"  
  
Before Dobby could answer, another house elf he hadn't noticed before started crying. Cat approached her, wondering what was the matter. He bent down to see her face. "Hey, are you okay?" he said, looking her over for any wounds or burns. "Winky is fine, sir. Is just... you is a human, you shouldn't be doing our work. We is house elves! We can do on our own!"  
  
"Hey, it's okay. I don't mind, really. I don't even really know what I can do here. You seem to have everything under control..." he said, trying to cheer her up. It didn't seem to help. Winky opened a butterbeer and took a drink.   
  
"You is not understanding. House elves is supposed to work for humans. House elves is always good to masters! We not needed when humans do things for us." Cat could understand her words, even though they were a little slurred between the butterbeer and her sobs. Then he realized the elf was probably getting drunk off of the soda. "Hey, I don't think you should drink that. Now, I was just told to have this job by Dumbledore. If you don't think you need me here, or don't want me, he'll give me another job. That's all!" he said with a smile, gently prying the butterbeer from the elves' spindly fingers.  
  
Dobby came up behind Cat, seeing the butterbeer. "Cat, you is wanting to talk to Dobby for a minute?"  
  
"Sure." And he walked to a seperate corner of the room.   
  
"Sir, Winky is lost her family a few years ago, and she is very upset..." He paused upon seeing the bottle in Caton's hand. "Butterbeer is not good for house elves." Cat nodded and handed Dobby the bottle. "Thank you, sir."  
  
"Oy, Dobby- call me Cat, okay?"  
  
"Yes, s- Cat." Dobby nodded and wandered off. Cat stood up to his full height, stretching his back and trying to wake himself up a little more. 'The floor is getting a bit messy', he noticed. He grabbed a broom from behind him and started sweeping. Once he had a decent pile going, a house elf walked up and snapped it's fingers. Cat was about to ask why, as he watched it go by in a hurry. Upon looking down, the dust was no longer there. His eyes widened a little- is that how all wizards cleaned? They just... snapped their fingers? Or was it just house-elves? He heard Winky burst into tears again.  
  
Cat went over and knelt beside her again. If she was upset because he had done something, he might as well have her do the work. "Hey, Winky- how does one do their laundry here?"  
  
She looked up at Cat, still sniffling. "We house elves do it. Your laundry is needing washing?" She looked a little happier now. Cat smiled at her, and said, "Yep. Or at least, it will tonight. I've only got what I'm wearing..." Winky looked up at him like she couldn't believe what she was hearing. He didn't blame her- most people he ran into had more than one set of clothes. "Now, Winky, can you do it for me? I don't know any of the house elves besides you and Dobby, really, and I think Dobby has enough clothes of his own to take care of..." Winky laughed a little; It was kind of an odd sound, coming from a house elf like her. Cat pulled out a map and showed her where his room was. "That's where I'm staying now- could you come get my things every night at ten-thirty? I wanna make sure everyone else is asleep before I leave it out for you..."  
  
"Oh, we can get into rooms if you is liking to leave it there better. Right here," she pointed to another place on the map, "is where we is keeping extra robes in case a young master's gets ruined. They gives them back when they gets new ones. You can use them if you is liking too!" She sounded much happier now. Cat thought it was odd that something would like nothing more than to serve others, but he played along. "That's great, Winky! Say, is-" he stopped short, about to ask if there was anything he could do. Winky was waiting patiently for him to finish that sentece. "Is it almost time for breakfast?" Winky scrambled to her feet, faltering a little from the state the butterbeer she had put her in. "What is you wanting for breakfast, sir?"  
  
"Please, call me Cat..." he trailed close behind her, in case she fell or dropped something. "Ah... do you have bacon?"  
  
Winky moved her hand a certain way, and a tray piled with bacon appeared on a counter for him. His mouth dropped open. "Ah, I don't think I can eat nearly that much..." He opened cabinet after cabinet above him until he found plates, and took some of the less fattening pieces from the tray. Winky was behind him, waiting for more instructions. Cat thought of the next thing. "You wouldn't mind if I had a glass of water would you?" And one appeared next to him. It was a normal amount of water, at least. "Thanks, Winky. I'm going to head out before the students get up, okay? Remember, tonight at ten-thirty, please come see me for the laundry." Winky nodded and bowed. Cat made his exit.   
  
Once in the halls, he carried the bacon in one hand and the water in the other. First stop was his room- it was closest. He ate somewhat slowly, enjoying having decent food for once. It was not easy to come by, not having a job, and always being on the road with Injaka. She knew much about wild plants, and they had eaten many of them to sustain themselves. Occaisionally, they had stolen from supermarkets where the camera security would not catch them. They did have rules of course- only steal from big chain markets, so that the loss is spread through the chain, and not from small, privately owned ones, run by families. They needed the money they made, as it affected them directly. Now... the idea that he could just walk into the kitchen and ask for food... anything he wanted, in large quantites, little or no cleanup... it was unreal. Couldn't be as simple and good as it seemed, but he had yet to find a flaw... It was like magic. It was magic.  
  
'Next stop: the spare robe closet. I'll bring a few back to my room, pick up his dishes, and return them to the kitchen...' Cat made a mental note to ask Dumbledore if there was anything else he could do, as he did not want to upset Winky further. It wasn't any good to make enemies on the first day, or so Cat's philosophy went. That, and he didn't really want to know what would happen if he made a house elf angry.  
  
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~ Cat in the Hall ~  
  
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"Just what do you think you are doing?"  
  
Cat spun around. "I beg your par... don...?" His breath caught in his throat for a moment. A man who bore a remarkable resemblance to himself stood before him. He seemed not to notice at all.   
  
"Would you care to explain why are you out of your common room so early?" he asked. His black eyes searched the boy's for any trace of dishonesty. Cat looked down, not being able to take the distaste in the man's eyes any longer. "I beg your pardon sir... I work here, as of yesterday night," he answered, trying to keep his voice from wavering. Not even an hour so far, and already he was making trouble. The man before him looked a little skeptical. "I don't believe we have met. My name is Caton Crawford. Dumbledore has given me a job here as of today."  
  
"Has he. I will find out soon enough, and if you are lying to me, you will suffer. Do I make myself plain?"   
  
"Yes sir." Cat stood rigid, doing his best not to show how intimidated he was. It was not acceptable! He was a trained warrior, probably more lethal than just about anything in the castle- he would not show fear. "May I resume my activities, sir?"  
  
"That brings me back to the first question which you neglected to answer. What do you think you are doing here?"  
  
"I thought it would be easier to blend in if I wore robes or a cloak like everyone else here tends to. A house elf," (he was careful not to say which one, in case it got them into trouble), "told me to come here for them, as I have none of my own yet, sir."  
  
"I see. And when are you planning to return them?" he said, lifting an eyebrow. His arms were folded, as if to rub in the fact that he dispised all students, and just about anyone else for that matter. Cat took quick breath before speaking. "I will return them as soon as I make enough money to buy them myself, sir."  
  
Severus studied the boys' face carefully. "See that you do," he said with a sneer. Cat quickly nodded. "Yes sir." He leafed through various robes, looking for some that would fit. Out of the corner of his eye, from behind a curtain of black hair, Cat noticed that the man stood a little father down the hall, watching him. He mentally shrugged it off and went about his business, ignoring him.  
  
Sure enough, Severus Snape waited, observing Cat's actions as he unfolded and re-folded the clothing, checking the lengths against his somewhat lanky body. Snape tilted his head, watching him... a new employee? Dumbledore was always taking people in without questioning them too thuroughly. Quirrell had been proof of that. This one... he looked familiar... he closed his eyes. Flashes of memory passed by like a movie on fast foward; a child crying, his parents fighting, himself sitting alone in his room, hating the world outside... but then, that was how things had always been. The new one looked something like himself when he was young. Seeing him, the way he moved, little characteristics... it was strange. Caton glanced over at him; Snape scowled in return as he swept out of the corridor, his velvet robes floating behind him.  
  
Once he had left, Cat leaned his back against the wall and sighed in relief. Who was that guy? He probably was one of the professors here. Good thing he wasn't in class like everyone else his age. Cat didn't want to know what happened to people who crossed that man. Then again... he had looked somewhat similar to himself. And he had style, walking out like that. He was poisonous and catlike. In the distance, he heard footsteps- many of them. 'Is it already time for everyone to wake? I'd better get out of the way...' he thought, gathering the three sets of robes and returned to his room.  
  
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~ A Short Conversation at Breakfast ~  
  
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Cat returned his dishes to the kitchen, and started washing them. He didn't pay much attention to the two house elves that had approached him from behind, but they called to his attention.   
  
"Yes? Something you need?"  
  
"Headmaster Dumbledore tells us to take you to breakfast! He is wanting to introduce you to the school! You gotta get there now!" He was already a minute or so late! He put down the plate, dried his hands, and ran as fast as he could to the Great Hall.  
  
:: Meanwhile ::  
  
"Albus, have you hired anyone new this year? We still need someone for Defense Against the Dark Arts..." Severus said, wondering if the old man would mention the boy he had run into earlier. That, and there was the hope that Albus would give him the DADA job. Dumbledore looked around the room. A row of house elves were lined up against the wall, Cat among them. He set down his fork, stood up, and called attention to the school.   
  
"This year, we have a new staff member. Unfortunately for you all, it is not a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. However, he will be helping the castle run smoother and more efficiantly in his own way." Cat looked up at him, suddenly wishing he hadn't come- he didn't like to be on stage in front of people. He hoped Dumbledore didn't call him up to join him...   
  
"I'd like to introduce Caton Crawford. Caton, if you'd come up here for a moment..." Cat sighed, smiling all the while. It was too much to hope for when he thought he wouldn't be displayed. He climbed up the side staircase to meet the Headmaster, and bowed to his audience. Dumbledore took him aside, showing him to the tables of Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor (where he noticed Ron sitting), and Ravenclaw. Then he introduced him to the professors- Professors Vector, Trelawney, McGonagall, Sprout, Flitwick, Hooch, Binns, Hagrid, and Snape. 'Snape. That was who I met this morning...' He bowed to all of them. "Good morning." Most smiled and nodded their greetings, but not Snape- his face stayed as expressionless as ever, watching Cat. He suddenly had the impression that he had been assessed and found wanting. Thinking it rude to linger too long on one person, he lowered his eyes and folded his hands, trying to make himself a little less noticeable.  
  
"Now, Caton, there are many more members of the staff. You shall meet them all in time, I'm sure," he said, then dropping his voice to answer the question Cat was thinking of. "You may be excused now." Cat gave a smile smile and bowed again. "Yes sir." He went to re-join the house elves, and followed them out of the room.  
  
Dumbledore resumed his seat. "Did I answer your question, Severus?" The dark-haired man only stared for a moment. Realizing that Dumbledore was probably the only person who could wait forever on him, he merely said, "Indeed."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
~ Meeting Mr. Filch ~  
  
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About a week after being introduced to the school, Cat found himself quite bored. It was all very well and good that he had a secure job, but the elves didn't want him to do anything in the kitchens. "It was an insult to their kind," they had said. So he was left to sit back and let them move around him. Most mornings, he just stayed in his room, leaving only for food. Tonight he ventured out well after nine, in hopes of something sweet to ease chocolate cravings. He had a good excuse to be out- he worked in the kitchens. These thoughts were brought on by a faint voice he thought he had heard on his way to the fruit portrait.   
  
Rounding another hall, he saw who they were coming from- a middle-aged man mopping a floor. He was accompanied by a cat. Apparantly, he was talking to it, going on about how students never wipe their feet before coming in to the castle... He stopped when he saw Cat.  
  
"Well, if it isn't the new employee. I thought the kitchens were closed after people were supposed to be in bed..." he said in his gruff voice. Caton patiently replied, "The mostly are, but it is not only students residing within these walls, sir."  
  
"Heh. And I suppose you're going to walk in your muddy shoes over my freshly mopped floors and make me redo everything, aren't you?"  
  
"What would you say if I took that mop from you and cleaned the floors myself?" Cat raised his eyebrows slightly, challenging the caretaker to answer. He thought that Cat was there only to annoy him? That he couldn't appreciate hard work when he saw it? That he was so selfish and rude? 'Heh. Figures. This one... geesh. What's wrong with him?'   
  
"Well?" Cat waited for a response. The old man didn't know what to say. "That's what I thought. I'm not going to ruin your perfectly clean floors, thank you. I'll have you know that my sole purpose here is not to make you miserable, although it seems that plenty of people here do hold that position." He let a wan smile cross his face. "May I ask your name?"  
  
"Argus Filch. And this," he said, picking up the cat,"is Ms. Norris."   
  
"Caton Crawford. Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Filch, Ms. Norris. Beautiful cat... may I pet her?" he asked, having an affinity for felines. They were just so cute and graceful, so... catty, for the lack of better word. It was just an attitude. Filch was once again a little suprised, but still had the look of hatred on his face. Cat could tell what he was really thinking by his eyes- they always gave someone away. 'Unless you're Snape... he gives nothing for free.' Filch barely nodded, skeptical that the boy wouldn't hurt his precious pet. He held her still though, while Cat reached his somewhat small, darkened hand out under Ms. Norris' face, so that she could see his intentions. It was like asking permission from the animal. She was much like Filch, moody and a little spiteful it seemed. "Shh... shh... it's alright... not going to hurt you..." he whispered, petting her head and rubbing behind the cats' ears. After only a few seconds, he pulled back. "Mr. Filch, you seem to work pretty late hours, no?"  
  
"Heh- you youngsters never let me rest! Always tracking in mud or spelling each other, even though I always tell you not to use magic in the halls... it's a wonder anything stays clean here. Least now those Weasley twins are gone- second best thing that happened to this school, next to Professor Umbridge being headmaster! Anyways, enough talk, gotta get back to work." With that, he set Ms. Norris on the ground and dipped the mop back into a bucket of water.   
  
"Excuse me- I could be wrong, but... isn't that... dirty water you're cleaning the floors with?" Filch stopped a moment to consider that. "It's not like I can change the water everytime I need a new bucket. It would take forever."  
  
"Yes, but if I could get the house elves to do something on it, would you let them?"  
  
He considered this for a moment. "What are you getting at." It wasn't even a question. "Do you think I am incapable of cleaning a floor?"  
  
"No sir, I am trying to make your job easier and more efficient at the same time."  
  
"I'm doin' fine on my own. Got enough to do, making something a little easier ain't gonna lighten the load at all."  
  
"Well, what needs to be done?" Cat asked, curious about this. If the work wasn't too disgusting, even to him, he'd do it himself. That is, if Filch would have him- goodness knows the house elves didn't need him, or even want him for the most part. They were just taking orders.  
  
"Everything. You brats destroy everything. Every hall in this castle needs to be mopped three times a week. Every bathroom needs to be cleaned twice a week- and I mean, floor to ceiling. Wait a second, why do you want to know all this?"  
  
Cat looked down and considered his response for a moment. He straightened up and met Filch's eyes, saying, "Well, sir, to put it bluntly, the house elves don't need me very often. Not in the mornings, rarely in the evenings, never at lunch. Usually just to keep an eye on Winky, to make sure she stays away from the butterbeer, but that isn't too long everyday. I'm bored. I came here to work, not sit in my room or babysit a house elf with a drinking problem. Would you mind if I helped you out?"  
  
Ms. Norris looked startled for a cat, and Filch once again just stared. "You think this is a joke, boy?"  
  
"No sir. I told you- I'm bored, and I want to work. You need someone to help you out, that's clear. I'm asking for the job."  
  
Filch looked like he had just won the lottery. "And how are you at cleanin'- wi'out magic?" Cat shrugged. "Pretty-decent- I've always cleaned my house on my own fairly well, and I don't know any magic to use." Filch was liking this kid more and more. Halfway respectful, hardworking (or seemingly so) and he didn't use magic, so he probably wouldn't rub in the fact that he was a Squib. And he liked Ms. Norris. Wonderful!  
  
"I suppose you can mop the floors tomorrow night, see how good you are."  
  
"Fine with me. When do you want me, and where shall I start?"  
  
"Here, at nine. Takes all night to clean the floors alone." Filch got annoyed at the thought.  
  
"Where do I get my supplies?"  
  
"I'll bring them for you. You just have to be here."  
  
Cat nodded. "Alright then. If you don't mind, could you get two very large sponges instead of a mop? I could work faster that way." Filch didn't know how one could work faster that way, but he'd see what the kid could do anyways. It wasn't like he was already permanently hired or anything. Ms. Norris had already gone to stalk the other halls, and he had to get back to work.   
  
"Gotta get back to doin' my job... remember, tomorrow night, right here. Nine sharp. Got it?"  
  
"Yes sir." Cat said and ran off to the kitchens.   
  
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Severus Snape walked the empty halls of Hogwarts. He wasn't on duty tonight- no, he was after something much more important: cherry cheesecake and a bit of red wine. He smirked at the thought of his motive. Him? The greasy bastard of a Death Eater professor- wanting cheesecake? Couldn't be. Why on earth would he fall for sweets when he could be doing vile things like killing puppies or something? After all, that's what was expected of him. These darker thoughts of killing something brought him out of his almost-good mood.  
  
He stopped to tickle the pear, which caused the portrait to pop open. House elves parted like the Red Sea to let him pass; they feared him, even though he had tried to be generally nice to them. Once. A long time ago. Before that damned elf with the clothes showed up. The stove was going- he could smell something nice cooking. Something chocolate-y. Which was perfect on that night. Upon passing through an arched doorway, the first thing he saw was someone in a long black robe stirring something in a pot. Snape was ready to leave right then and there. 'Damn him... being here and cooking chocolate when I want it!' The boy pulled out a bowl of cleaned cherries. Snape pressed his lips in fury and turned on his heel before Cat noticed him. Or so he thought.   
  
"Hello, Professor. Might I interest you in a chocolate-cherry cheesecake?"  
  
"No. Why are you cooking at this hour? I trust there isn't another meal in the Great Hall I was not aware of."  
  
"Another? Have there been such things before?" Caton asked innocently, not knowing how things worked in the castle yet. The professors eyes narrowed. "Don't be impertinant, boy. The point was, where are your services needed at this hour? Not here. So why are you out of your room?"  
  
Caton was at loss of what to say for a moment. Then deciding that honesty was the best policy when dealing with Professor Snape, he stated as calmly as he could, "Distinct urge to make cheesecake, sir. Cherry cheesecake. With chocolate sauce to put over it."  
  
"I see. Finish, and go back to your quarters," he replied sharply. Caton flinched and rushed to fill a jar with the chocolate sauce he had made and put the cherries into the refridgerator next to the said cheesecake. He wiped his hands quickly and hurried out of the kitchen. Snape waited a few minutes for him to get going. The house elves did not dare to come in and ask questions; instead they had busied themselves with other things. Then he took the cheesecake out of the refridgerator with the cherries with one hand, and held the chocolate sauce in the other along with a fork; He proceeded to take the whole thing down to his office with a smile. 'Severus, you evil bastard. Scaring the kid like that. Oh well. He had better be able to make a decent cheesecake. Or else,' the voice in his mind said, satisfied with a long days' worth of tormenting the students.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Back in his room, Caton took off his well-worn shoes. He had had them for nearly two years then, and he knew that they were a bit older than that. He shrugged and thought about the professor- why had he been in the kitchen? It wasn't any of Caton's business, but he mused that the professor was the cheesecake-police. 'He's probably eating the whole thing, by himself, right now. Damned bastard. He'd better appreciate it! Or if nothing else, he could save me some of the cherries and the fudge sauce...' he thought, laughing under his breath. 'Gwyn should hear about this... what would she think?' He decided it was time for another bath.  
  
:: Later On ::  
  
As it turned out, Gwyn was quite amused at the whole incident with Snape and the cheesecake. She confessed that he probably was eating the whole tin himself, or at least putting it somewhere no one else could get it. Deciding that it was best to keep the talk to themselves, for the sake of not letting Snape hear it, he finished routines and set his clothes out for Winky as promised. The night was finished as far as Cat was concerned. He flopped onto the bed and tried to get himself to fall asleep. After tossing and turning for a bit, he pulled out his sword. It was like a sense of security- he had always had it by his side when he slept. Who knew what kind of people were around on the streets? After it being his only source of self-protection for five years, sleeping with it in hand was a hard habit to break; he didn't care where he was, school or no. Caton held it to his body tightly, unsheathed, as he fell asleep.  
  
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A/N: Seems like I end all of these chapters on him falling asleep, no? It won't all be like this- I promise. 


End file.
